The storm became worse before sunset.

By the time we reached the cabin, the road behind us had almost disappeared beneath the snow.

The guide divided the rooms.

By some cruel coincidence, mine was directly across from Ethan and Amelia’s.

I entered without looking at either of them.

All I wanted was warmth.

And enough strength to make it three more days.

I placed my backpack beside the bed.

Inside it was the letter.

Three pages.

Written before I left home.

On the envelope:

“For Ethan Hawthorne, if he ever comes back here.”

I had never planned to give it to him personally.

That night, everyone gathered downstairs for dinner.

I stayed in my room.

Around nine, someone knocked.

Amelia.

She carried soup.

—You didn’t eat.

—I’m not hungry.

—You looked sick on the bus.

I forced a smile.

—Just tired.

She placed the tray down.

Then her eyes fell on the medication beside my bag.

I quickly covered it.

But she had already noticed.

Her smile disappeared.

—Luna…

—Please.

She stopped.

—Don’t tell Ethan.

That surprised her.

—Why would I tell him?

I looked toward the door.

—Because you’re kind.

Amelia sat beside me.

After a moment, she said quietly:

—Ethan knows you.

My fingers froze.

—I realized it on the bus.

I said nothing.

—The way he looked at you wasn’t the way someone looks at a stranger.

I lowered my eyes.

—We were together once.

Amelia became completely still.

Then she whispered:

—You’re her.

I looked up.

—What?

She seemed to regret saying it.

But it was too late.

—Three years ago, Ethan kept a photograph in his wallet.

My heartbeat changed.

—He told me the woman in it disappeared without explaining anything.

I couldn’t speak.

Amelia continued:

—He said she promised to meet him in Iceland someday.

I stared at her.

—Then why are you marrying him?

Her expression became strange.

And suddenly she laughed.

—Luna, I’m not marrying Ethan.

I thought I had misunderstood.

She removed the ring.

—This belongs to my sister.

—But you said—

—I said “husband” because the guide misunderstood my English this morning and Ethan didn’t bother correcting him.

She looked embarrassed.

—We’re here for my sister’s wedding photography company. Ethan invested in it. We’re scouting locations.

My mind went blank.

—You’re not together?

—Absolutely not.

At that exact moment, the door opened.

Ethan stood there.

He had apparently heard enough.

His eyes were fixed on me.

—Why does that matter to you?

Amelia immediately stood.

—I’m going downstairs.

She disappeared before I could stop her.

Ethan closed the door.

—Your doctor messaged you.

My heart dropped.

—You read my phone?

—The message reflected in the window.

He looked at the medicine.

—What’s wrong with you?

—Nothing that concerns you.

—Luna.

—Don’t.

His expression hardened.

—You disappeared three years ago. You changed your number. You returned every letter I sent. And now I find you alone in Iceland receiving messages from a doctor telling you not to travel.

He took one step closer.

—Tell me what’s happening.

I laughed weakly.

—Interesting.

—What?

—Three years ago, I begged you to let me explain.

His face changed.

Finally.

The past entered the room.

Three years earlier, Ethan’s father had come to see me.

Hawthorne Group was facing an investigation.

Ethan was about to receive the promotion that would place the entire European division under him.

His father showed me documents.

Then he told me that my family’s old financial dispute could destroy Ethan’s appointment if we remained together.

I believed him.

So I left.

What I hadn’t known was that the documents were incomplete.

And Ethan never knew why.

—I thought you chose your family over me —he said.

—I thought leaving was protecting you.

—You could have told me.

—I tried.

His voice rose.

—You vanished!

I reached into my backpack.

—Because your father made sure you never received this.

I pulled out an old envelope.

Ethan stared at the handwriting.

His name.

The date.

Three years earlier.

—What is that?

—The letter I left for you.

He took it.

The seal had already been opened.

But not by him.

In the corner was a small stamp from Hawthorne Group’s executive office.

Ethan’s expression changed completely.

—Where did you get this?

—Your father returned it to me.

His fingers tightened around the paper.

For the first time, his anger wasn’t directed at me.

Then he noticed another envelope inside my backpack.

The new one.

“For Ethan Hawthorne, if he ever comes back here.”

He reached for it.

I grabbed it first.

—Not that one.

—Why?

—Because that letter isn’t for today.

His eyes moved to my face.

—When is it for?

I couldn’t answer.

Another wave of weakness hit me.

I reached for the table.

Ethan caught my arm before I fell.

His hand froze around my wrist.

He could feel how thin it had become.

—Luna.

I pulled away.

—I’m fine.

—Stop saying that.

His voice cracked.

That frightened me more than his anger.

The next morning, the weather cleared enough for the tour to continue.

I woke before sunrise.

I didn’t tell anyone.

I took my backpack and hired a local driver to take me toward the lake.

Three days early.

I couldn’t wait anymore.

The doctor had been right.

My body was getting weaker.

I reached the lake just after nine.

Snow surrounded the dark water.

I stood at the exact place Ethan and I had marked on a map years ago.

Then I placed the letter beneath a small stone.

Promise fulfilled.

I turned around.

And froze.

Ethan stood twenty meters behind me.

No coat properly fastened.

No gloves.

As if he had rushed there without thinking.

His eyes went from me to the envelope.

—Is that the letter you wouldn’t let me read?

I said nothing.

He walked forward.

I tried to reach it first.

He was faster.

—Ethan, don’t.

He picked it up.

—Why?

—Because it isn’t yours yet.

He looked at the front.

Then at me.

—When does it become mine?

My throat tightened.

He opened it.

I didn’t stop him.

His eyes moved across the first lines.

Then stopped.

All the anger disappeared from his face.

He looked at the date written at the top.

Then at the hospital information underneath.

Finally, he raised his eyes toward me.

—How long have you known?

I couldn’t answer.

Ethan looked back at the letter.

His hands were shaking now.

Because the first sentence didn’t say that I still loved him.

It didn’t ask him to forgive me.

It simply said:

“Ethan, if you’re reading this, I probably didn’t have enough time to explain everything myself.”

He stared at me across the snow.

And for the first time in three years, the man who believed I had abandoned him finally understood why I had come to Iceland alone.